


The Wrong Child

by Nope



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-21
Updated: 2003-04-21
Packaged: 2018-12-23 10:40:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11988117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nope/pseuds/Nope
Summary: Colin knows time is running out.





	The Wrong Child

It was late, warm and dark. Colin lay on his back, naked on fur, pushing sweat slicked hair off his forehead, catching his breath. The fire cast their shadows large on the far walls, on the ceiling. Gold shimmered in its light, Gryffindor red dimming to a burgundy so deep it's almost black. He was sore and his thighs were sticky and his skin itched where it'd been rubbing against the rug and he was warm and tired and his bones felt loose, almost liquid, and he just couldn't stop smiling.

The silence deepened between them. His breathing slowed, evened out. He watched the shadows moving on the ceiling, long curling columns and, out of the corner of his eye, similarly moving fingers.

"That'd make a good photograph."

Colin almost agreed, but: "Not enough light." 

"Maybe if you used a slow film and a wide aperture..."

Colin frowned, turning his head to the side to meet wide eyes, vulnerable without the frame of glasses, pupils expanded in the low light until only the smallest circle of green glittered around the deep black. "Harry."

"...oh. Right." 

Harry laid his head back down. Colin rolled over onto his side, propping his head up on one elbow. Harry had his hands behind his head, tangled in a disarray of hair that blended easily into the darkness of the rug below them. Colin reached out with his free hand, brushed sweat from Harry's chest with light fingers and smiled harder when Harry shivered and moved into the touch.

"Alright?" asked Colin.

"I'm-- yes." Harry glanced at him, turned his attention back to the ceiling. "It was a little... weird?"

"Weird," repeated Colin flatly, hand dropping. 

"But good! Really!" said Harry, earnestly, sitting up. "Honestly, Colin! It was just... you know." A shrug that was more a roll of the shoulders than a real gesture.

"New," said Colin.

Harry nodded gratefully, making hair spill down his forehead and then smiled widely when Colin sat up as well and brushed it out of Harry's eyes. "It's nice long, isn't it? It looks much better than in Sixth Year--"

"Yeah," said Colin, sliding his fingers down Harry's cheek, curling them against Harry's jaw, feeling the bone under the skin. He leaned forward. Harry twitch backward slightly with a sharp intake of breath.

"Please?"

"Colin--"

"Please?" asked Colin again, and touched his lips to Harry's, feeling bone move under skin as Harry opened to him, flicked his tongue against Harry's and withdrew. Harry's mouth stayed open, his eyes glazed. Colin felt laughter tug and a brief flicker of annoyance, ignored both, reached up and ran both hands backwards through Harry's hair.

"It is nice long," Colin agreed.

Harry smiled, repeated Colin's movement, then held his hands up, watching himself open and close fists. He stretched both arms, arched his back, yawning slightly, and reached for his robe. 

Colin put a hand on Harry's bicep, feeling muscles move under the skin. "Don't."

"But I'm cold, Colin--"

"Move closer to the fire."

Harry looked at him for a moment, then nodded, crawling over Colin to squat cross-legged at the edge of the hearth. Colin rolled over to follow him, fascinated by the play of firelight and shadow on skin. Harry turned away from the scrutiny, looking down at the photos they'd left out, some moving, most flat Muggle slices of time. He fingered through them, picking one out and laughing as he showed it to Colin.

"Hey, remember this? Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. That was so great. She never even saw him coming." Harry, looking at the photo, didn't see Colin wince slightly and turn away. "Good game. We finished almost three hundred points up." He brushed his fingers against the photo, before putting it back in the pile.

Colin looked at the fire, at the hourglass silhouetted against it on the hearth. The top bulb was just under a fifth full. He watched grains tremble at the edge and fall and listened to the shuffling sounds of photos until Harry said:

"Colin?"

"Yes?"

"It's only a couple of months till the end of year."

"Yeah."

Harry's voice trembled slightly. "The last year--"

"I know. Don't worry about it."

"But--" Harry subsided at Colin's glare. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

He did have a point, though Colin mused. They'd need more supplies soon. Just the basics, though, the lacewings, of course, and bicorn horn and he'd have to bribe Goyle into stealing some more of Snape's boomslang skin for him... But the important, the unique ingredient -- well, if he rationed it carefully, he had two or three years worth of that. He couldn't see why everyone was so careless, he wasn't, of course, but others were, people who should know better--

"Colin," said Harry, interrupting his thoughts, suddenly, quietly, with intent.

"Mm?"

"You'll be Harry next time, right?"

"'Course," said Colin.

"Promise?"

"Sure, Dennis." Colin smiled at the ceiling. "I promise."


End file.
